Hot damn. q v q I really adore him.
username;
Bytemename;
Ketsu Koijingender;
Maleshort personality;
Xxx
The feeling of confusion is fine now, isn't it? Ketsu is hard to understand, his introverted ways make it difficult for him to socialize and it isn't cliche, he's never felt very comfortable with people and everyone around him. Society and sociability in general have him playing Russian roulette with his words. And of course, each action is some chance, like jumping into the rabbit hole wile what lays in the path changes every jump.
The way he gets through things is by writing, everything interior and within his mind would be illustrated into words onto paper gently and harshly all at once, as the sence of sickness sunk in deep, and the need to vomit grew more and more. It is the way he speaks out in a booming voice, every churning word with meaning, without a single spoken one.
He is very smart, calm even with his anxiety, kicking out words to explain himself. For no one in particular.
Ketsu carries a dose of, painful, anxiety as if it was a limb, and usually feels it inch through him so often that it had become a natural sense, just as happiness and anger may be. Unexpected and able to hit in large amounts. To the point that he will begin to feel asphyxia if left alone with his own thoughts for too long, as they catalyze and stir. Pen on paper distracts from that.
His mind is always full of retrospectual thoughts, he wants to do work but at the same time he sees no point to it, and it won't be the first time he will say something blatant with no intent on being negative, just being honest so that the moment can be accepted. Ketsu is a conclifting mortal in a mortals world, it's just the way it is.
extra one [optional];
The speech
An autobiography of sorts
There is only one way into a man's mind
And I suggest a drill and hammer, quickest with minimal puncture
There he stood on a stage covered in dark, tasseled by the shadows that he was blind to. There were words to be said, faults to attend to... Ideas to reconcile himself into believing. No time. The paper beneath teetering and aching hands sat still in calming pale perfection, ready to be read. Ready to be heard. Each word scanned under his eyes, a large gulp and barely, just about nothing coming out, as he pushed away the anxiety did he see the whole crowd fully.
Words grabbed at him, danced over each stem of his mind and through his ears in silence, even though that which was written was much more silent than the ones before him, much louder in their tiny talk and whispering soft voices. The ink danced in a haze, blurred yet bold. And as he breathed everything stopped in its place, when he began to take those crazy words in.
Lost friends result in weak memories, lost friends are none of my worry, they hurt the heart no matter what you try. As a child whenever they asked me what I wanted for my future, what I wanted to be... I always had such energy, even though I had no idea what would happen to me back then. Slowly that always rising strength turned into fear, crippled up and soon the days had me sitting wondering... When I would die and how okay with it I would be.
Socialization is a bore and a riddle. People, it's okay... "I will not desert you, just don't leave," but "Oh no, please don't come any closer. It makes me uncomfortable," I can't decide where I want to be and the space in the middle is just that, an open space. Neutrality never can be left to sit in peace, it makes its home land so carefully in between the waring sides and watches as the blades and enemies run towards their oppositions, not noticing the subtle one sitting right in between them.
I want to stand in a crowded room and open my mouth and just let the words flitter out. "Do you ever want to cry because your body aches but you know the tears won't come out, so all you do is sit and stand and breath and blink and try to forget, wile always frowning, wile trying to smile, and still wondering if you can somehow cry..."
I was never a part of this world-- in which you all live.
All the people behind me are scary, and sometimes I tell myself I could win anything as long as I could put my heart into it and believed it. But people are terrifying and I can never get into their minds. So I feel useless and awkward, a cacophony of living flesh and thoughts.
I rather trailed into my own world. And no that does not mean delusions, do not feel pity for me, I am doing this by myself, now... Let's see how many of you understood that.
What did I say to you, you strangers and acquaintances, even the ones I met before, can you explain my mind to me? What is it that makes you falter in this sentence, in this moment?
I don't truly need you to help me or tell me. This is just what it is.
And he grabbed the paper in his hands, lingered on the stage for a moment, before walking away... Without a single word.
Small explanation:
extra two [optional];
Front row of a battle line-
Hhh, playlist maybe
1000 words each
